Not Yet Written
by inspired.by.them
Summary: Ana and Christian have a love that could survive under any circumstances; No matter if one of them were poor, ugly, or insane. Love should be embraced in every situation, but what happens when the two people in love happen to be brother and sister? **Technically not incest since Christian is adopted** ON HIATUS
1. Prologue

_December 19, 2005_

_12:45 A.M. _

_My very first memory had Christian in it. Hell, 85% percent of my memories have Christian in it. My whole life has been surrounded around one person; one main conflict for over 20 years. I never had normal problems, or normal priorities. But then, I've never had a normal life or a normal family. The Grey's are the type of family you see on Dateline: NBC; the perfect little suburban, close-knit family that can do no wrong.. But then when you dig deeper, it's just a bunch of disturbing shit you really wish you never found out.. Or wonder how anyone could even live in that environment._

_You know how normal teenagers worry about... being popular? Or, who will take them to prom? Or, maybe about how they'll make it through those four years with perfect grades? Maybe even the one most worry about-which college they'll go to (if they can even make it that far.) I was an abnormal teenager; none of those things seemed to worry me. I had the easiest time handling 5,000 word essays and quadratic equations. And popularity? What was that? I was completely fine with my three measly friends I had. I guess I would refer to myself as a "misfit". Oh, and prom? I attended elegant galas throughout my whole life-what would a rinky-dink little high school prom be compared to that?_

_It was a breeze for me handling all of life's problems thrown at me. I handled puberty like no other teenage girl who had graced the face of the Earth. I was smart, well-liked, and well-behaved. I didn't think of myself as beautiful-surely no one else but my family had called me that.. But then, I was also never called ugly. I guess that's a small victory. I had an easy life, but there was just one thing that terrified me. Terrified me so much that I was scared of my feelings. They were abnormal, intrusive... disgusting even. I cried at night because there had to be something wrong with me. These emotions had to be fake-I had to be dreaming. Every day it just got worse and I just got more scared. My heart was wrapped in a cold, airtight vice that harbored nothing but terror._

_Terror for who I was. __And terror for the things I thought._

_When it comes down to it, I didn't have normal problems. I only had one, and that problem was harder to handle than all the others combined._

_That problem was Christian Grey._

_My brother._

* * *

September 10, 1982

5:19 P.M.

Her mouth was agape in absolute wonder, not that she even noticed. All her attention was stuck on the living, breathing creature writing softly in her arms. Her eyes were staring into powder blue orbs that stared right back at her. Although those same eyes had just entered the world five hours ago, they were wise beyond belief. An "old soul" some people would call it-was exactly how she thought of the little girl in her arms.

An old soul, indeed.

She glided a finger across the soft, angelic cheek of her baby, still completely in shock that this life was her's. This soul, the flesh of her flesh, was her's to keep. Forever and always until the day she died. Looking at how beautiful she was-bright, rosy cheeks. A small tuft of curly, brown hair; and puckered lips soft to the touch.

Grace shed a tear-or several-looking at the life in front of her. How was it possible? Grace was deemed infertile by all of the doctors she had seen, but then this little one came along.

"She's beautiful," Carrick whispered, marveling at the small child who had a fist wrapped around his finger, "Just like you."

Carrick was a gruff man-never really showing emotion unless it was absolutely necessary. However, this one event was an exception, as his eyes turned misty under the weight of his emotions.

Grace turned to look at him, a smile lighting up her already beautiful face. Tears glistened down her cheeks, sparkling in the fluorescent light of the hospital. They did not speak, but every thought they had was conveyed back to each other.

Wonder, amazement, happiness, _disbelief._

Their eye contact was broken momentarily, as they heard two sets of childish footsteps racing down the hall.

"They're here," Carrick declared, a slight smile at the corners of his lips.

"I hope they'll like meeting their baby sister," Grace whispers, stroking the child's face.

The hospital door bursts open, Elliot racing through the entrance first, Christian trailing behind him at a much more hesitant pace.

"Mommy!" Elliot exclaims, racing to her bedside, slightly bumping the wheels of the bed causing it to skid to the right.

"Shh!" Carrick slightly admonishes. "Mommy is very tired and you might wake the baby."

"Sorry," Elliot says, much quieter this time. He changes his focus to the baby in Grace's arms, who is now his baby sister. His eyes open wide, amazed-much like the rest of his family. "She's pink, Mommy!" He exclaims again.

Grace giggles, nodding her head.

"Yes, darling she is." She strokes Elliot's hair.

"Can I hold her?" He asks, still looking intently.

"Not yet, buddy. Maybe when you get cleaned up. The baby is very young and she can get sick easily."

"Well, maybe just for a minute," Grace argues.

Carrick gives her a pointed look, already very protective over his little girl. She purses her lips, not quite agreeing with his decision, but going along anyway.

She pats Elliot's head again.

"You can hold her tomorrow when she gets home."

Elliot perks up and smiles softly.

The four of them-wrapped around in their own bliss-barely notice the copper-haired little boy standing in the doorway. He is scared, wondering why he is back in a hospital. He hasn't been here since he met Grace. Would he be getting another mommy again? Would this little girl replace him?

He hugs his blanket to his chest, the tattered and stained cloth providing him some comfort. Even after he had been adopted, he wouldn't allow anyone to take his blanket away. It was the only thing that provided him solace in moments like these. He places a thumb into his mouth, his tiny little limbs shaking. He doesn't want another mommy. He likes Grace.

Carrick turns towards him, his arm outstretched.

"Don't you want to meet your little sister, Christian?" He asks, a smile plastered to his face. It does a good job of hiding his unease, but there's still a faint trace of it there.

There is always unease where Christian is involved.

The little boy blinks. _Sister? _What is a... _Sister?_

He stands still, eyes wide and blank. His thumb is still placed in his mouth, his blanket latched tightly in his grip.

"Come here, baby," Grace calls, her voice soft.

Christian immediately moves, never wanting to upset his mother. He had to keep her happy, or she'll leave. He doesn't want another mommy to leave him.

His pace is slow, but soon he is at her bedside. He stares, confused at what he is seeing. What is that strange creature? The pink, small blob everyone is staring at adoringly. And why is mommy crying?

"Here, look at your sister," Grace whispers, her voice thick with emotion. She pulls the blanket down slightly, allowing the baby's face to be more visible. "Isn't she beautiful?" She smiles.

Christian stares, his face blank.

Grace frowns. She was expecting the same reaction that Elliot had given, but knew that Christian was more closed off than Elliot. Her poor, poor broken baby. Her heart cried for him every day.

"Come here, sweetheart," she demands softly.

Christian hurries over to her side, slightly confused on what she wants. He is scared to be by the newborn baby, never before seeing anything like it.

"Give me your hand."

Christian hesitates, fear creeping in fiercer than before. The thought of being touched is one of his worst fears. The only touch he's ever known was the rough kind.

Grace notices his hesitation and smiles softly, reassuring him. His hands were usually a safe-zone, unlike his chest. No one-not even his own adoptive mother-was able to touch him there. There have been many nights where Grace has wept; being a mother and not being able to touch your child is the worst kind of private hell.

Slowly, Christian gives her his hand. She is soft and warm-like his blanket after it's been taken out of the dryer. This thought soothes him a little, calming his nerves.

"I won't touch you anywhere else," Grace reassures.

She guides his hand to the small, writhing bundle in her arms. His hand stiffens, but he lets her continue. He doesn't want to disappoint his new mommy. She places his hand into the little girl's grasp, which is already quite strong. Her little hand clamps down on one of Christian's finger, causing the little boy to gasp.

"Christian," Grace begins, "This is your little sister. A sister is someone that will always love you no matter what. You are her big brother and it is up to you to always keep her safe. Can you do that, sweetheart?" Grace asks, her gaze hopeful.

_Sister.. _The little boy thinks, mulling over the word. Someone to _always _love him? No matter what he did? He was a bad boy-he remembers the scary man telling him so. Bad boys get left behind.. But his sister won't leave him. She can't.

Christian looks into the powder blue eyes of the little girl, her eyes gazing back at him. In that moment they have an agreement-a mutual understanding. Although no one else can see it, their hearts are wound together in that very moment.

"Sister.." Christian whispers, so quiet it is almost completely inaudible.

Grace and Carrick gasp-Christian barely speaks. Grace nods her head, tears sliding down her porcelain cheeks once more.

Christian understood what he had to do as a big brother.. And a big brother he would be.


	2. Twelve

_December 21, 2005_

_3:03 P.M._

_Twelve. I was twelve when I noticed that I felt.. different. There were girls in my class who would swoon over boys in our grade, or actors that they saw on t.v. They would giggle over how cute they are, write their names in their notebook... and I remember thinking why I didn't feel how they did. Why was I not normal? Why didn't I feel butterflies in my stomach whenever I was around a cute boy? Why didn't I feel flattered-or happy when a guy would ask me out, or come to my house and ask if I could ride bikes with them?_

_My mother thought it was adorable-her daughter just had boys falling at her feet; but me? I didn't feel anything. And I thought it was wrong. It _was_ wrong. _

_It was wrong because there was only one person in the world who could make me feel butterflies, or daydream about running away with them and having 2.5 kids. Only one person I wanted attention from._

_And that person was off limits._

* * *

September 10, 1994

4:15 P.M.

"Smile, baby!" Grace cooed, her face widened with a smile. One eye was squinted into the lens of a Polaroid camera, it's lens pointed in a bronze, blue-eyed girls direction.

The girl smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners-just like her father. Her skin was sun-kissed, the tan from the summer still present. They had just returned from the Bahamas after a three month vacation and the sun had had it's fair share of Ana.

"Enough, Mama," she pleaded, laughing lightly as she removed the camera from the woman's grasp. "You've taken like five hundred in the last twenty minutes."

Grace wrapped her in her embrace, kissing her head softly. The girl had sprouted up since last year, moving from barely 5 foot to 5'7''-almost as tall as her mother. When Grace kissed her, she barely had to bend down.

The girl hugged her back, inhaling her mother's scent. Butterscotch-just like since the day she was born. Grace and Ana had always been close; they shared a bond that only a mother and her daughter could have. Sometimes they knew what each other was thinking-just by a look, or a movement. They were so in-sync that Carrick would joke that even he was jealous.

For a while, Elliot resented Ana. It was like someone had just came in and swept his mother away. Grace would obsess over her daughter, checking in every second to make sure she's okay. She didn't put her down for three months. She even placed her crib inside of her room until she was a year old-deathly afraid that Ana would be struck with SIDS.

Grace hated to admit it, but once Ana was born, she forgot that she had two other kids. Even if it was brief, she still felt guilty; even 12 years later.

"My little girl is turning 12-you'll be going to this year," Grace responded, a lethargic lilt present in her tone.

"Mommm," Ana drew out, rolling her eyes, "don't start again. I will literally be three blocks away from the school I went to last year."

Grace swallowed, pushing away her thoughts filled with anxiety. She had managed to keep Ana alive and healthy for twelve years-surely nothing would go wrong now.

"Of course, dear," she muttered, rubbing Ana's arm softly.

Ana looked around the backyard of the Grey house. There were family members-her grandmother and grandfather, her aunt Rhonda and uncle Jerry, her brother Elliot; friends, people that worked with her mother and father-but not the one person she wanted there the most.

She twisted a strand of her hair, biting her lip nervously.

"Have you heard from Christian?" She asked nonchalantly, not giving way to how deeply hurt she was.

Grace sighed. "No. But he'll be here. He always is for you."

Ana nodded, but she was less than convinced. Lately, the brother she had known and loved for twelve years just didn't seem to be present. Something was definitely going on with him.

Ana jumped as a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. She turned and was met with the emerald eyes of Kate Kavanagh.

Kate pulled her arm, stealing her away from the warm embrace of Grace.

"Sorry, Mrs. Grey, but I'm gonna have to steal Ana away from you," Kate calls over her shoulder, a faint smile on her lips.

Ana waves to her mom, chuckling as she's lead away.

_They grow up so fast.. _She muses.

* * *

Her tears slid from her cheeks and dipped into the bath water. Ana saw her reflection mirrored in the pool of liquid she was immersed in.

Her heart was heavy, filled with sadness and burning _rage. _How dare he not show up? What the hell was she-chopped liver? She was his sister, his _favorite person in the world _or so he's said. So he couldn't even stop by on her birthday?

She was hurt. Completely and utterly hurt. She slid underneath the water, submerging her whole body. She heard nothing but the whistle of water in her ears. Felt nothing but the warm pool lapping at her skin. Her lungs burned; she pushed herself to the limit, trying to distract the ache in her heart with physical pain.

This pain she could deal with.

When her chest was on the brink of exploding, she broke the surface of the water, gripping the edge of the tub on her way up. She inhaled deeply, lapping up as much air as possible to sooth the burn in her chest. She wiped her eyes, the bright, flourescent bathroom lights stinging her retinas.

"I had something to do."

Ana screamed, water cascading over the side of the tub as her body jumped with fright. She looked to her right, the grey eyes of Christian burning bright as he stared at her.

She covered her chest, sinking lower into the tub.

"Get out!" She growled, mortified.

Her cheeks were a fierce red, betraying her fierce facade. Inside she was quaking.

This was her brother-he couldn't see her naked! Especially not when she's lacking _so much _in the breast department.

"I'm not interested," he murmured, gesturing to her covered chest, "even if I was there's nothing to keep me interested."

Her stomach dipped and her cheeks flushed even brighter. She tried to ignore the sting in her eyes that his words invoked. She slid even lower, nothing but her head exposed. Maybe the water could hide the shame that she felt in that moment.

"Well.. you're an asshole," she whispered.

He grimaced. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Yes, considering mine's still _alive."_

Her eyes widened in shock.

_Did I really just say that?_

Ana saw something zooming at her face and caught it just in time. It was a box, with a red ribbon wrapped around it-her favorite color.

"What's this?" She asked.

"Open it."

He wasn't looking at her. He stared at the painting on the wall; a woman with a single, white rose. It was in tones of black, the mood of the painting so somber and so heartbreaking. The woman had a smile on her face, but it was all wrong. It didn't match the sorrow in her eyes. Ana had always wondered why a woman as happy as Grace would hang up such a sad painting. Little did she know that Christian had picked it out.

Ana pulled at the ribbon, it unraveling and falling to the floor. She opened the box to reveal a sterling silver bracelet. There were charms adorned around the whole bracelet-little trinkets of memories Christian and Ana had shared over the years.

She smiled as she looked at each one, but there was one charm in particular that caught her eye. A single, grey eye stared back at her. It was inanimate-but it looked so alive. It sparkled underneath the florescent light, holding so much depth for something so dense.

"You always said you loved my eyes.. Now you can take them everywhere with you."

She looked at Christian, his eyes almost matching perfectly the charm on her bracelet. It was as if they were exact copies.

"Thank you," she whispered, mesmerized. But she wasn't going to let him off that easily. "But it doesn't mean I forgive you. How can you just _not_ show up to my party? Are you outgrowing me or something?"

Her voice cracked at the last part, showcasing her fears and the real reason she was so hurt. Now that Christian was 15, what if he forgot all about his baby sister? What if he wanted to hang with people his own age, or pay attention to older girls. Pretty ones that _don't _have underdeveloped chests.

She looked down, her cheeks reddening.

"It's complicated," he responded, his voice grave.

"Then explain," she pleaded, placing her bracelet back in the box and onto the edge of the tub. She inched closer to Christian, reaching out to him.

"Do you remember when I was eight and we went to the aquarium?" He asked, sliding from the counter down onto the ground, taking hold of her hand. He spun the mood ring that was wrapped around her ring finger.

Ana nodded her head.

"Do you remember what happened?" He looked up at her, his eyes frighteningly dead. So blank and sad that it was hard for her to breathe.

"One of the tigers got loose and hurt somebody," she whispered.

"And do you know why?"

She shook her head. "Tigers are predatorial. Naturally vicious," she guessed.

He chuckled, but there was no mirth in his tone.

"No. They forced him in that cage-forced him to be a house cat when he wasn't born that way. Eventually, Ana.. You just realize that sometimes you have to find where you belong."

She snatched her hand away from him.

"And you _don't belong _here? With your family?.. With me?"

He didn't answer; instead, her removed her bracelet from the box and wrapped it around her wrist.

"I don't belong anywhere."

She grimaced, so confused-and hurt. Why was he shutting her out now? Why after all this time did he not want to talk to her? She grabbed his arm, pulling up his sleeve.

"What is this?" She asks, gesturing to the purple bruise on his forearm.

He shakes his head, not answering. He rises, preparing to exit.

"I haven't outgrown you," he says, his hand on the doorknob. "I never could," he adds before leaving.

She stares at the door, hoping he'll come back in and everything will be normal again; but he doesn't. She looks down at her bracelet, the eyes-Christian's eyes staring back at her. For some reason they just made her feel more alone.

* * *

_**A/N: I feel like double-uploading today. I should, considering I have nothing else better to do. However, thanks to everyone for supporting this story. I hope it will turn into something promising. **_

_**P.S. Save your money and DON'T see the Fifty Shades movie-it's dreadfully disappointing. **_


	3. Twelve II

_December 23, 2005_

_9:45 A.M._

_Christian was never normal; but really, who knows what normal is anymore?_

* * *

October 1, 1994

2:45 P.M.

"Ugh, they sent our babysitter," Kate scoffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

Ana pursed her lips, slightly less annoyed than Kate. In all honesty, she was more curious than upset. Why hadn't her driver picked her up? She twirled a piece of her hair, contemplating the many reasons for why Christian was sent in Henry's place.

"Did they fire Harry?" Kate asked, digging through her purse while kids dispersed around them.

School had ended and children were rushing to get to their designated areas. Some to the bus stop, some to their parents' cars, some to after-school activities. Whatever the reason, they had somewhere to be.

With all the commotion around them, Kate and Ana looked out of place. They stood still, not seeming to care about where they were off to. It was usually the routine for them on Friday's-stand out in the courtyard in front of their school while they waited for their driver to get them. Henry was never late-they purposely told him to show up fifteen minutes after school had already ended.

"It's Henry," Ana answers, staring at Christian from a distance. He couldn't seem them-not that he was really looking, but she took the time to study him. He looked pale.. and weak. She frowned at the sight. She was accustomed to Christian always having a sour expression, but she wasn't used to him looking so gaunt. "And no. He took me to school this morning."

"He could have been fired after you left," Kate muttered; "God, have you seen my pager? I can't find it anywhere!"

"Breast pocket."

Kate looked down, then smirked at Ana.

"You're a life saver." She grabbed her arm, linking their elbows together. "Let's go deal with Mr. Sourpuss."

They walked over the trimmed, green grass of their school courtyard, the area now deserted. It was a cold winter afternoon-the wind biting at their skin. They made their way to Christian, who was parked in one of the many cars the Grey's had amassed over the years.

Kate tapped on the window, a hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised. Christian rolled his eyes, begrudgingly rolling down the window after awhile.

"Can I help you, Ms. Kavanagh?" Christian grumbles, his voice silky and smooth even when tinged with bitterness.

"Never," she shoots, a scowl on her face, "why are you even here? You can't _drive_, asswipe, you only have a permit."

Ana grimaced at her friend's rudeness.. But she didn't defend him. He had ignored her ever since her twelfth birthday. She was glad someone was taking some anger out on him.

"Yeah, well I won't tell if you won't."

She scrunches her face up-almost as if she is disgusted by the fact that he even spoke to her directly. She turns away from him, giving Ana a quick hug.

"I'm gonna page my dad and ask him to pick me up. Have fun with your.. pet."

"Bye," Ana whispers, watching her friend walk briskly back towards the courtyard. She turns towards Christian, biting her lip in anxiety.

What do you say to someone you barely see anymore? Her and Christian used to be completely in-sync-as if they were the same person. Now, she barely recognized the person sitting right in front of her.

"There is this thing called a door; usually people enter it in order to get inside or out of specific places," he mutters, an air of mirth in his tone.

She stared blankly at him, no humor at all present in her eyes.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had to work..." she trailed off, confused. "And you can't drive, you could get in trouble."

"Loosen up a bit, will you? I took some time off today.. I thought we could do something."

"Oh, now you care about spending time with me?" She scoffs, shaking her head.

"I've been busy," he starts, "but now I'm not. Shall we cease the day, then?" He asks, smiling crookedly at her.

She frowned. This is the happiest he's been in a month, but she still felt bitter from the cold-shoulder he's been giving her. She opened her mouth to make a snarky comment, but looked at his eyes. They were bright, like he was _interested _in spending time with her. At that moment, she gave in. Some would call her spineless, but she didn't care. Any attention she got from Christian she lapped up like a man stranded in the desert.

However, she didn't show how eager she really was. She put on an impassive face, rolling her eyes. She crossed her arms.

"Fine," she spat out, "if you insist."

* * *

She gripped the edge of her seat, her stomach churning from nervousness. The car raced around the sharp bends, feeling as if it would topple over any minute.

"Oh my god, could you _slow down, _please?" She asked sharply.

He laughed, the noise sounding discordant and completely _wrong._ That wasn't the laugh she had grew up listening to-it was slow and.. sloppy. Not velvety, or smooth. She eyed him, her stomach dropping with every turn of the wheel.

When she looked at him again, his eyes weren't bright like she had thought-they were dazed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She whispered.

"Everything," he shot back. Then he smirked, glancing at her.

"Did you take something?" She guessed, frowning. She yelped as the car turned abruptly, narrowly missing one of the steel guard-rails.

"Sorry," he said, his eyes wide and looking alert... at least for a moment.

"Let me out," she pleaded, tears welling up. Her knuckles were turning white from how intense her grip was on the seat.

He looked over at her, confused. He frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Everything!" She yelled, "I don't even know who you are anymore! You never talk to me, you're never home, you keep getting into trouble.. And now this. You're putting my life in danger and you promised you'd protect me.." Her tone died down as her tirade went on, tears spilling over her cheeks. "It's like you turned into some monster.." She whispered.

The brakes screeched and he slammed down onto them. Ana's body lurched forward. Her chest burned from the sudden and harsh collision with the seat-belt.

"Don't you get it?!" He screamed, his skin turning red and his eyes burning a fiery grey. He reached across the console, grabbing hold of her biceps, shaking her harshly. She screamed from the forceful movement, her tears falling rapidly.  
"I've always been a monster! But you and everyone else just keep _pushing and pushing and pushing_," Ana could smell a faint hint of whiskey on his breath from how close they were to each other. "I will _never _be who you want me to be. This is me, this person right here," he growls, pointing towards his chest. "Take it or leave it."

He lets go of her bicep, falling back into his seat. His chest rises and falls from the excursion of his outbreak. Ana turns away, looking out the window.

"I must have never known you then," she answers, her voice devoid of emotion. "I want to go home."

* * *

She lays in bed, the moonlight creating etches of intricate shapes on her ceiling as it leaks through her window. She imagines that she's floating in the clouds, the air brushing over her skin, causing goosebumps and the hair on her arms to stand up. She imagines so deeply that she can almost taste the air on her tongue-so crisp and stark. She can smell how fresh everything is around her. She closes her eyes, letting her imagination take her away.

Any place is better than where she is now.

Her heart rate slows down, her body easing away the anxiety of the day's events. She shudders as she thinks of how crazy Christian acted today. Her eyes sting again as she recalls his tirade-how rough he touched her. She willed the thought away, focusing on going back to her happy place.

Her eyes snap open as she feels a movement on her bed. She opens her mouth to scream, but a rough hand quickly covers it. The hand smells of citrus.

_Christian._

She looks over, the structure of his face barely visible in the darkness of her room, but she knows it's him. Her eyes well up again.

"Leave me alone," she grits out.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, pain clear in his voice. His eyes are illuminated-a sight so beautiful it causes her heart to speed up.

"What did you do that?" She asks, confusion expressed in her voice and on her face.

He swallows. "I thought you would help me.. You always do."

"Help you with what?"

He shakes his head.

"No," she insists, moving away from him, indignant. "If you're in _my _bed, you're going to answer my questions."

He takes a deep breath. "Usually I'm good with controlling how shitty I feel about myself but lately I can't keep it in and I don't know what I'm doing anymore, I'm so confused about everything and I just want to disappear. I come for this fucked up past and I live with such perfect, _good _people that I can't even compare," he spits out in a rush, so quick that some of his words mix together.

She gapes at him.

"You're the nicest person I know," she responds, completely confused.

"I'm your brother, you just say that because you're used to being around me," he argues.

"I say that because I love you," she answers, without hesitation. Her cheeks redden slightly, embarrassed by what she just said. They always say "I love you" to each other, but lately Ana had feelings she was confused by. She wasn't sure _what_ kind of love she felt for him anymore. "And.. Because I see how you treat people. You're always giving to the less fortunate," she adds on.

He purses his lips.

"You're too nice to me. I treated you like crap today.."

"Well that's because you're a jerk," she said matter-of-factually, "but you're my brother. I would never abandon you."

Christian frowns. As Ana looks at him, she sees an emotion cross his face; something she has never seen before. It's disconcerting, but fascinating at the same time.

He takes her hand, lacing their fingers together. As he moves her hand, the bracelet on her wrist jingles, the grey-eyed charm glinting as it hits the moonlight.

"Being me is the hardest thing in the world," Christian states.

She rolls her eyes.

"But it's a little less hard with you." Her stomach drops, goosebumps prickling on her skin. When he says things like this to her, she feels so.. Weird. She could never find the words to describe it, but she knew for sure that only Christian could make her feel this way. "I used to think that Grace saved me that day," he drawls, "which she did. At least physically. But I think the most important thing she did was lead me to you."

She stares at him, each of their eyes burning intensely as they peer into one another's. She breaks eye-contact, a slow blush making it's way onto her skin. _Thank God it was dark_, she thought.

He let go of her hand, turning away to leave. She grabbed his arm, already missing his company.

"Don't go," she pleaded.

"Ana," he drew out, "We've been over this a dozen times before-"

"Yeah, but you owe me," she argued. "Plus I watched this movie and it creeped me out.."

He rolled his eyes, then sighed.

"As soon as I see your eyes close, I'm leaving," he insists.

"Then I'll just keep them open all night."

* * *

_**Thanks for your support! Don't forget to review; I honestly love to hear what you guys have to say. Feedback is important to understand what I could change to make the story better for my readers and also influence where I could possibly take this. I have a pretty mapped-out idea, but you guys come up with some interesting ideas.**_

_**P.S. A reviewer asked me if there is only a three year age difference between Ana and Christian, and the answer is yes. **_


	4. Between fourteen and fifteen

_**Keep an open mind. Things are about to get interesting from here on out.**_

* * *

_January 1, 2006_

_12:45 A.M._

_It is officially a new year, which means I can leave all of my baggage behind.. but it's hard to do that when you have a constant living, breathing reminder of every disappointing, cruel, disgusting thing you've ever done._

_Not that that reminder is completely all bad. There's a lot of great memories that come with it._

* * *

January 1, 1996

1:23 A.M.

Christian sat stoicly, his jaw as tight as the edge of a knife, a half-empty champagne flute in one hand, a party horn in the other, and a silly party hat sitting ontop his head. He looked at all the people scattered around his family's living room - there were his parents' co-workers, a small group of family members, some of Ana and Elliot's friends, and one of his mother's only close friends - Mrs. Lincoln.

He watched her from afar, his heart speeding up and his blood coursing through his veins. He gritted his teeth even harder. He was upset at the fact this parents _forced _him to come to this gathering in the first place, but the fact that Mrs. Lincoln, or known to him as _Mistress Elena_, was here just put the cherry on top of his already shitty day.

They still had their arrangement, but were on a mild break. He pushed away the thoughts of what happened - the beating.. the gruesome, tongue-biting beating that transpired after what he said.. He shook his head. He should've known better.

_Love really is for fools.._

He was crazy to even think that someone could love him.. Or that he was even capable of loving anyone in the first place. He was sick, both in mind and spirit. Nobody would willing want that.

But then he thought about her reaction. She yelled, her eyes blazing with fury. She punished him that day. Punished him so badly that he bled, his skin cracking open from the impact of the assortment of instruments she hit him with. His skin was black and blue, his body so exhausted and mistreated that it was hard to walk.

He hated to admit it.. But he cried after the incident. She made him feel like he was three again.. And he hated her for it. He hated that she put him in that position.. But yet he couldn't stop seeing her. He didn't _want _to stop seeing her, for whatever twisted reason, his heart and mind couldn't stop wanting her.

_Was it love?_

"No," he heard a bell-like voice respond. It shook him out of his thoughts - had he said that aloud? "You cannot have as much fun as you're having right now, Christian. It's _illegal," _Ana said sarcastically, sliding onto his lap. She took his half empty champage flute and emptied the contents into her own.

He rolled his eyes at her.

"Can you at least pretend you're having fun?" She demanded, squinting her eyes at him. She took a sip from her glass, she scrunched up her face. "Who bought this? It's so cheap," she whispered to herself, but still decided to drink the rest anyway.

"I _am_ having fun," Christian gritted out. "This is my fun face."

She sucked her teeth, frowning at his petulant attitude.

"Okay, suit yourself."

Christian turned to look at her - really look at her - for the first time that night. She looked.. completely different from the Ana that he knew, or at least thought he knew. She wasn't the awkward pre-teen that he saw her as for the past two and half years. She looked.. like a woman.

And suddenly, he felt uncomfortable.

He slid Ana off of his lap, taking a deep breath. She quirked an eyebrow.

"Did I say something, or..." She trailed off, confused by his sudden movement.

"No.. I.. Just got dizzy," he lied.

"Maybe you're suffocating from the stick you have lodged up your ass," she mumbled, leaning her head back to empty her glass.

He grimaced.

"Watch your mouth," he scolded. "And slow down, you're still a kid," he added, taking the drink away from her. As he said it, he wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince her or himself.

* * *

Ana stood naked, scrutinizing her body in the mirror. She was less than pleased, but it was definitely a step-up from how she used to look. She shuddered as she thought about her appearance when she was thirteen - literally, she thought that was the worst year of her life. She had pimples and no matter how much she washed her hair, it was _still _greasy. But now, she looked.. Decent. Pretty even, if she thought about it. She wasn't one of those self-absorbed girls who thought they were goddesses on Earth, so pretty to her was much different than other people's standards.

Some people would go so far as to call her beautiful - but that, she didn't believe.

The florescent light highlighted every part of her body. Her skin was pale and smooth, the winter taking it's toll on her annual summer-tanned skin. No longer was she a luscious bronze, but was a smooth ivory color, the blood in her cheeks showing even brighter against her alabaster skin.

Her hair cascaded around her shoulders, the brown waves looking shiny and bouncy, the never-ending grease that plagued her in her younger years seeming to have faded. As her eyes traveled downwards, she took a moment to linger on her breasts. She pursed her lips. She could _still _improve in that area. They were barely even a handful, but at least she didn't look like a little boy anymore. Two years ago her chest was as flat as a board; However, she still couldn't celebrate too much in her small victory - compared to Kate and the other girls, her breasts were practically nonexistent.

She pushed away her bitter thoughts and grazed down even further. Her stomach was flat and toned - just as it always was. She had a naturally high metabolism and weight was never really a problem for her. Plus, she liked to stay active with her oldest brother, Elliot. That boy really loved his rock-climbing.

She kept her eyes moving, stopping at her most _intimate _place. Her cheeks flushed. She wasn't sure how to feel about _that _part. She had heard a few boys talking about what girls looked like naked during gym and what they were saying worried her.

Apparently, vagina's were supposed to be hairless and bright pink... And _tight_? She didn't even know what the last one was supposed to mean. She frowned as she looked at down. What she saw.. Was none of that. At least not to her eyes. She sighed.

_Boys are stupid.. What do they know?_

* * *

Yet, she couldn't stop thinking about it. She tossed and turned, the stupid words of those boys plaguing her mind. She could have asked her mom about it, but then she would freak out and give her the sex talk - _once _again. And she wouldn't even be honest. She could hear her now..

_Every part of a woman is beautiful, Ana. Embrace your flaws and physical attributes._

She rolled her eyes. No, she didn't want it sugarcoated. She wanted the raw truth - she wanted to know what guy's liked.

_No you don't, _her thoughts hissed at her. _You want to know what _one _guy likes.._

She swallowed, turning her body again, ignoring her subconscious. She couldn't ask her father either. She's pretty sure the only vagina he's seen is her mother's. So, that left three people - Kate, Elliot, or Christian.

She almost laughed out loud when she thought of asking Elliot. It was just way too weird - she knows the reputation of her brother and she was sure he would just go into detail that she really did not want to know.. i.e. his sexual history.

Then there was Kate, but what would Kate know? If it was a question about penises, then yeah, Ana was almost quite sure Kate could answer that.. But this was about _girl parts. _Her friends never really talked about it - they were too embarrassed, and her school absolutely refused to. They put stickers on the diagrams of female sexual reproduction organs, while the pictures of the males lay uncovered. Surprisingly, no parents complained about it. Maybe that's why there was so much sex going on in her school. Everyone wanted to see it up close.

So that left one person: Christian. Her heart accelerated. What would he say? Would he yell at her, or think she was weird? Or maybe he wouldn't even know. He's never had a girlfriend...

But then again, you don't need a girlfriend to be experienced.

Ana slipped out of her bedroom, slowly making her way down the hall to Christian's room. It was late at night-almost midnight, so she was sure he was asleep. She opened the door softly, trying to avoid making the door creak.

Christian was laying on his side, his back facing her and his front facing the window. The moonlight shown on his face, making him look even more angelic than he already did on an everyday basis. At this moment he looked so.. Peaceful. Not like the angry, tense, self-absorbed person she grew to love and tolerate. Looking at him like this was so.. Gratifying. If only he could feel at ease when he was awake.

She hated having to wake him up, but she slowly climbed next to him, softly shaking his shoulders.

"Christian," she whispered.

He didn't budge. She rolled her eyes. _Now_ he chooses to be a heavy sleeper.

"Christian," she said a little louder, shaking him rougher than before.

He stirred, but his eyes didn't open an inch. She groaned, then climbed onto his hip, her legs straddling the sides of his sleeping form.

"Christian!" She demanded, whining this time.

His eyes snapped open, the two orbs wide and more alert than they should be for someone who just woke up. He scratched his head, frowning at Ana.

"Oh no, the boogeyman," he whispered, mock-scared. He turned onto his other side, placing Ana beside him. "What are you doing? If you're scared because you went to go see _Scream, _then that's on you, I told you not to sneak in the movie theat-"

"No, it's not about that," She whispered, cutting him off. "I have a question."

"And it couldn't have waited until morning?" He asked, perching his head on his hand to face her.

"It kept me up.. I couldn't sleep," she admitted, twirling a piece of her hair. She felt kind of silly now for even thinking to ask Christian. He intimidated her. He always had.

He sighed. "Alright, then shoot. I'm dying to know what could be so important," he responded as he plopped back onto his pillows.

"Christian.." She started, trying to muster up the guts to ask him such an awkward question, "Are you a.. Virgin?" She blurted out, so quick that a few words got squished together. Her cheeks promptly flushed after have muttering such a god-awful question.

He quirked an eyebrow. "That's what was keeping you up?"

"No," She frowned. He made her seem like a pervert. "I'm just curious about.. things. Boys were talking.."

He turned around quickly, sitting up. "About what? Being with you?" He stuttered, his eyes burning bright.

"No, not exactly. About girls in general. What they look like.. down there."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you asking me?"

She closed her eyes and in that moment wanted to die. God, she could've just went to the public library and checked out a book on sexual organs. It would have definitely been less embarrassing than this.

"What do girls look like down there?"

He laughed. "Okay, go get a pocket mirror, then place one foot on top the bathtub. Place the mirror underneath-"

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "I know what _I _look like, I'm asking what do guys want? Is it supposed to be shaved, or _tight?-"_

"What could of knuckle-head boys have you been talking to?" He screeched, glaring at her.

"Shh! You'll wake up mom and dad."

"First of all, I doubt any of those idiot assholes even have experience-"

"Do you?"

"What?"

"Do you have experience? I think that was my original question.." She mumbled.

He bit his lip. "That's none of your business, Ana.."

Her stomach dropped. She looked down, focusing on his bed sheets. Her head was swimming and her eyes pricked. No answer automatically means a yes. She was so stupid. Of course he had experience, look at him! But for some reason she _really _hoped he was going to say no. She shook her head, she has no reason to even feel.. upset. It's not like he was committed to someone else, although that's what it felt like in her mind.

"Who was it?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but instead sounding hopelessly bitter.

"Nobody important," he spat out. Ana raised an eyebrow at his tone, but he didn't divulge any further.

"Oh..." she lied down onto her back, folding her hands across her chest. "What's it like?"

He lied down next to her, mirroring her position. "Exactly how they make it look in the movies. The x-rated ones, not the Pg-13 versions." Ana grimaced at his words. "Well.. at least physically," he said.

Her eyes pricked even further.

"So what about emotionally?" She asked, swallowing down her feelings of hurt.

"I wouldn't know."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "It's hard to explain.. But don't get your hopes up. It's not all hearts and flowers.. It's just fucking," he gritted out, his tone changing to something more sinister.

"That's not true.." she whispered.

His eyes widened, looking apprehensive. "And how would you know?" He asked, cautiously.

"I don't.. Not for sure.. But I know that there has to be more to it than that.. Or nobody would get into relationships. There's just something so spiritual about connecting with someone in that way. It's the closest you could possibly be to anyone. It's like your souls connect and there's nothing else in the world but you and that person... It's supposed to be beautiful," She whispered, her voice fading away slowly.

Christian was silent, his face impassive. He thought about her words.. And suddenly felt sick. Why did what she said feel.. So right but at the same time so _wrong_? It made his head swim.. He felt something he couldn't put his finger on.. But it felt similar to regret.

"I hope that's true," he whispered, "And I hope that's exactly how you feel when it's your time. Just promise to.. wait for the right person," he asked, his voice sounding desperate.

"Who's the right person?" She asked, feeling hopeless. She was pretty sure she could never feel that with anyone.. Who was available. "No one's interested."

"Good," he blurted out, then regretted his choice of words. "I mean, that's good for right now. You're young.. But just wait. The right person could be closer than you think."

There's a long silence as they both stare at the ceiling, not thinking any particular thoughts. They just breathe, their bodies next to each other, their hands folded across their chests.

* * *

**_Thanks for the support. Review._**

**_-XoXo_**


	5. Sixteen

**_Just a heads-up, Ana is going to stay sixteen for at least a few chapters. Don't worry, though - this is the most exciting (and traumatic) year of her life._**

* * *

_January 3, 2006_

_3:45 P.M._

_I've always thought that lying is more trouble than it's worth. As soon as it's out your mouth, you're indebted to keep it going forever. You have to remember every detail that you fabricated, keep up with each new addition to the story, and make sure no one gets suspicious. It weighs on your heart, rips you apart until you feel like you're drowning - the truth trying to claw it's way out of your body._

_I could never lie. I never had a desire to lie. It was too hard on my psyche -plus I was just never good at it anyway._

_It's a much better idea to stick with the truth. At least that way no one get's hurt. _

* * *

August 9, 1997

8:30 A.M.

Her lungs burned and her legs felt like they would give out any moment now - but she had never felt more alive. A small smile spread across her face as her feet hit the pavement and her hair flew in the wind, trailing behing her like a mahogony cloak.

She pushed harder, her legs pumping even faster. There was something about running that satisfied her. She felt fearless as she raced through the trees, like nothing could stop her. There were no thoughts of problems or any sense of anxiety - it was just her and the world speeding past her.

But her joy was short-lived. She could hear the footsteps behind her, twigs snapping with each step. They were gaining on her, no matter how hard her legs pumped or how fast her arms propelled her forward. Soon, she saw a head of copper locks speed past her.

Ana was fast, but Christian was faster.

"Damnit," she cursed under her breath.

Christian's lip twitched, trying to hold back a smile. Originally, he was pissed at the fact that Ana had crashed his morning run. It was his time to think - well, brood would be more accurate - his time to blow off steam. Those were his only moments where he was alone, where he felt normal. He didn't have to deal with the judging eyes of his family or peers. He didn't feel the pressure to be perfect - but of course the _one_ person he wants to be perfect for the most would come jogging after him.

At first he tried to outrun her. He knew how fast he was - that was the main reason he won most of his fights. Looking at Ana's small frame and delicate body, he thought it would be no problem -but damn was he wrong. He picked up the pace, almost sprinting. When he turned to look back, he was extremely surprised to see Ana right on his heels, not even looking the least exerted.

_She ran up beside him, smiling the smile he hated but loved at the same time. It was a smile of adoration -of fondness. He hated when she did that. It was more than what he could ever deserve. Someone like Ana should never respect, let alone love, someone like him. He felt his blood start to boil._

_"You're not slick," she remarked, jogging right alongside him, "I know you tried to outrun me."_

_"If you're going to join me, then don't talk," he mumbled. "I'm thinking."_

_"About?"_

_"Don't worry about it."_

_She snorted, but then a devilish look crossed her face. "Let's make this a game," she proposed, her eyes lit up. "Whoever makes it through the trail, across the lake, then around the small grove of trees behind our house, has to tell the other person a secret," she finished, panting. The exercise was starting to get to her._

_He looked at her, one of his eyebrows quirked. Was she serious? She had to have known she didn't stand a chance against him - unless she was hiding some profound skill he had never seen. He scoffed. He decided to humor her._

_"Deal," he chirped, before picking up the pace, moving fast than he had during any of his other morning runs._

_Ana smirked. It was always good when someone underestimated you -they would never see what they had coming to them._

Now, Ana wasn't so sure. She saw Christian's copper hair fading off into the distance, seeming further and further with each passing second. She saw the sinews of his calf muscles stretch with each movement of his legs, the toned flesh looking beautiful... almost appetizing.

_If you keep looking at his calf muscles, you'll never catch up,_ she told herself, snapping out of her stupor. Sometimes she felt like such a pervert.

Her chest was tightening, her body starting to feel exausted. No longer was she feeling fearless, she was struggling just to keep Christian in sight. She pushed harder and harder, but each foot she gained on Christian, he had three gained on her.

She could see the back of their house in the distance. In about two minutes they'd be home. She had to catch up or she'd lose. She'd look pathetic and once again like the annoying little sister who is nothing but a joke. She was sick of not being taken seriously by him - like looking like a child.

But she _wasn't _a child. She hadn't been one for a long time. In a way, she never thought she ever was. Everyone had always seen Ana as a mature individual - someone wise beyond their years... except for one person. She wanted to stand out. She wanted to seem different, she wanted to be respected... She wanted to look beautiful.

With that being said, there was no way in hell she was going to let him defeat her. He could ignore her, shut her out, treat her like she was a child - but this, this she would win. She had to.

She sped forward, her legs so weak it felt like she would fall. She breathed harshly, every breath out of her lungs feeling like bits of sandpaper... but she didn't stop. She pushed past the pain, the weakness, the exhaustion. Soon, she felt Christian getting closer. Up ahead their house was only a few feet away - and so was Christian. She propelled forward, using every bit of strength inside her body to not collapse at that moment. Her legs carried her forward, the trees zooming past her vision, the sun peeking through the leaves of the trees.

She smelled citrus - and in that moment she knew she was close. She was right on his heels, so close that she could almost touch him. She pushed harder, putting everything into this moment... And soon, she was in front of him, right as they reached their backyard.

She slowed up, panting hard, trying to suck as much air into her lungs as possible. Christian was right behind her, his own footsteps slowing down until they stopped altogether. She turned around to face him. His jaw was tight, his eyes tinted with a hint of amusement.

He threw his hands up. "Fine," he spat out. "You won."

At first Ana did nothing, but then she laughed. A loud, belly-clenching, milk-snorting laugh. She feel to the ground, clutching at her stomach, the grass tickling the sides of her ears. Tears were streaming down her face, her cheeks sore from laughing so hard. She didn't know what was funny - or why she was hit with a sudden wave of hysteria, but she knew that she felt proud. She had never felt more important in that moment, or like someone who was worthy of respect.

She sat up, her hair falling into her face. She brushed the strands out of her face, looking at Christian expectedly.

"And my reward?" She questioned, prompting him to unload a secret.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He put his hands on his hip. "About what?" He asked.

"Where do you really go? When you're working? I know it doesn't take six hours to mow someone's lawn, or repair their shed," she spat out, her tone turning bitter.

He pursed his lips, looking uncomfortable. "I'm actually working. Believe it or not, I stay at that house until I'm off duty," he mumbled.

"That's a lie and you know it. You can't lie, that's not fair-"

"Life isn't fair," he interrupted. He racked his fingers through his hair again, pulling at the strands this time. "I'm being honest, Ana. I really am there," he said.

She huffed. "Fine, then tell me something else. That was a shitty secret," she murmured.

"I was waiting to show you this, but you decide to have things your way."

He moved forward, picking Ana up from the ground. He held her hand, leading them back into the house.

Ana tried to contain the butterflies flapping around in her stomach. She could understand why he still regarded her as a child - every time she was around him that's how she acted.

"Where are we going?" She asked, speaking softly so as to not wake up her parents. It was the first morning they had off in a while. Between her mother's intense shifts at the hospital and her father being bombarded with cases, it was hard for the eldest Grey's to ever have any time to relax.

"Do you ever stop asking questions?" He remarked, evading her question.

They turned to the left, their hands still entwined. He opened the basement door, walking down the steps. There stood his most prized possession - the only thing he had felt he had accomplished to make his family proud.

The piano.

"Oh wow, your secret is that you can play the piano? I'm so shocked," Ana said sarcastically, not impressed with his reveal.

He ignored her, dropping her hand to move closer to the piano. He moved back the bench, kneeling on the ground to reach underneath the piano. Ana furrowed her eyebrows. What could he possibly be doing? He fumbled blindly, clearly reaching for something Ana couldn't see. She watched with curiosity.

It wasn't long before Christian resurfaced. He stood, pushing the bench back and walking back over to Ana. He handed her something.

Sheet music. She studied the notes, trying to make sense of them. She was never very musical, but she knew the standard terms in order to make sense of what she saw in front of her.

"What does this sound like?" She asked, knowing the tempo of the piece, but not quite the melody.

"Nice.. I hope."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

Christian twitched, his cheeks reddening. "I, uh.. wrote it," he muttered.

"Christian, that's great," she whispered, amazed. "I didn't know you composed."

He scoffed. "I would barely call myself a composer. I just... wrote this for.. something."

"Can I hear it?" She asked.

He was reluctant. What if she hated it? He would look like a fool, especially since he was thinking of her when he wrote it - not that he would ever admit to that.

"It will probably suck."

"I don't care," she argued. "I want to hear."

He sighed, then pulled her along to the piano. He sat down, placing his hands on the keys. "If it's bad, just remember I warned you," he mumbled.

She rolled her eyes at his theatrics.

When Christian got going, she could see how engrossed he was in the music. It was like he completely lost himself, his worries and fears being washed away with each press of the keys. She stared at him, her heart expanding. She loved to see him like this - like the boy she used to know so well. They had grown apart over the years. She used to know everything he was thinking, everything he was feeling just from a look - or maybe a movement, or from the tone of his voice. Now, it was like he was just this impassive creature that wanted nothing to do with anyone.. Not even her. He was good at hiding his emotions now. When she looked at him, she just saw a face... And that's the thing that hurt her the most.

The song was beautiful, like nothing she had ever heard. It was so passionate, yet so soft and light at the same time. When she listened, she felt every emotion she ever felt in her life. Sadness, joy, adoration, happiness, _pain. _She was stunned... And soon she felt herself lost in the music.

She didn't notice when he stopped, or the fact that his hand was wiping her tears away. She opened her eyes and smiled. Christian's own face didn't mirror Ana's happiness. He frowned.

"You're crying," he whispered, puzzled.

"It was beautiful," she said simply, offering no other explanation.

He closed the lid on the piano, turning to face her.

"I want you to have it," he admitted.

"Why?"

"Because... Because I, uh," he stuttered, confused on how to approach this. "Wrote it for you."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "It explains to you what I can't say myself."

She looked down, biting her lip. He placed the sheet of notes into her hand. She looked up, her expression pained.

"So this is what we are now? You just give me things when you don't feel like talking?" She asked, her voice breaking. "Why can't we just go back to how we were? I used to know everything about you.. You know everything about me."

He didn't answer - he couldn't answer. What could he say to justify what he had become? What he always had been, but was too blind to see?

"I know you want me to unload my whole problems to you.. To explain everything I do, everything I feel, but I can't do that. I'm not like you, Ana, or anyone else in our family. I just.." He trailed off, wracking his hands through his hair, trying to control his breathing. "I just.. If you.. If you care then please just understand that," he finished, finally satisfied with he had said.

She peered at him, wanting to argue.. But then realizing that sometimes you have to put someone else's emotions before your own. She swallowed.

"Did you name it? Your piece?" she clarified.

He shook his head. "I couldn't find the words."

"Then I'll just wait until you can."

* * *

September 1, 1997

7:45 A.M.

Ana wanted to kill her mother. Usually Ana was an understanding person, but this.. This was crossing the line. Ana pulled down her skirt, feeling uncomfortable as she walked the halls of Catholic High School. What the fuck was she doing at a Catholic high school, she asked herself. None of her family was even religious! Her blood raced through her veins as she walked to her first class of the day, feeling paranoid as she walked past boys who _couldn't _keep their eyes to themselves. She pulled down her skirt once again.

Her mother had dragged her from old school - the one where all her friends attended (even Kate!) to this stuffy dump. To be a Christian school, everything was surprinsgly _dark_. The lights were dim, the blinds remained closed. She felt like a vampire. A vampire dressed in a skirt that was not at all her size and at a school where you weren't allowed to wear pants.

She slid into the desk at the back of the class, not wanting to make friends or even to be noticed. She couldn't believe she had to spend two more years in this place. She put her head down, other students filing into the classroom.

The bell rang, which caused Ana's heart to sink. The day had just started and she already wanted it to end.

Christian was baited by his mother to pick Ana up from school. Grace knew that Ana was upset at her, but she had her reasons. Part of it was for Ana's academic success, the other part was her just being an overprotective mother. From Grace's point of view, she was doing the right thing.

Christian sat in the car, waiting for Ana to come outside. He looked at the clock and hoped she wouldn't be too long - he had to make it to class himself in a couple hours. He was taking classes at Washington University, which his father was not too proud of. If Christian had it his way, he wouldn't be in college at all - he never saw the point. However, Carrick just thought it was the most important thing in the world and of course his son shouldn't attend any school but the best, which in his mind was Harvard.

Christian laughed in his face when he suggested it. Christian didn't feel comfortable around his family, the ones he had lived around his whole life. How the hell did they expect him to fit in with some stuck-up, ivy league bastards?

He was taking business and economics, which appealed to him. He was fascinated with the idea of making something so small and insignificant turn into a booming corporation. It was a game to him - and he wanted to win.

As Christian was engrossed in his thoughts of corporations and economics, he barely noticed Ana talking to an older male across the street from where he had parked his car. He squinted, trying to get a closer look, a strange tingling feeling spread across his body.

Ana was smiling, her eyes bright and sparkling. She twirled a piece of her hair, her cheeks slightly flushed. She was looking at the man like how she looked at him sometimes.. With adoration. Maybe not to the extent that she gave to Christian, but it was still there.

Christian's jaw tightened.

The man was tall and had brown hair. It was messy, like he had just rolled out of bed. His teeth were shiny and straight, he could tell from the shit-eating grin he was giving Ana - which she was just eating up by the way. It was hard for Christian to tell whether the male was a student or a teacher. He could be a well-developed senior, or a young teacher. Either way, both options make Christians stomach roil.

His blood was rushing, his head felt light, and the tingling sensation in his body was becoming more prominent. He didn't know what he was feeling... He had never felt it before in his life.

As he continued to watch their exchange, his hand gripping the steering wheel, he saw the man-boy put his hand on Ana's shoulder, looking indulgently at her.

Christian's stomach dropped, the strange feelings in his body reaching a whole new height. His knuckles were white from clutching the steering wheel so hard, his jaw so tight it felt as though his muscles would snap.

And then he knew what he was feeling.

_Jealousy._

* * *

**_This was a long one, but I still feel dissatisfied - there's so much more I wanted to add. However, I have a lot to do today and I guess I'll just have to wait until the next chapter. *Tear*. _**

**_Thanks so much for the support, I appreciate you guys a lot. _**

**_Don't forget to review. Xx_**

**_P.S. A guest reviewer left the sweetest review yesterday and it literally made my day. I want to say thank you so much to whoever that was! _**


	6. Sixteen II

**_A depressed author makes for a depressing chapter. _**

* * *

_January 13, 2006_

_2:21 P.M._

_The ones who love you often hurt you the most._

* * *

September 13, 1997

6:15 A.M.

She wondered if Seattle offered the death penalty. Surely the jury would have no mercy on someone who had murdered their own brother; but as she stared at his impassive face - quietly eating his cereal-she had to fight the urge to break the plate in front of her and use the rusty, jagged edge to stab him.

He looked up at her, frowning. She continued to stare, her glare growing stronger. How the hell could he look her in the eye after what he's been doing? How could he have the audacity to look _anyone_ in the eye? He dropped his spoon, staring back.

Grace used to swear that Ana and Christian shared one mind and one body. If she hurt, he hurt. If one was angry, so was the other.

If that was the case, Ana wondered, did Christian know about the seriously homicidal thoughts she directed towards him?

Grace set down a plate of eggs on the table, eyeing both Ana and Christian suspiciously. She pulled Carrick to the side, who had just entered the kitchen, preoccupied with fastening his tie.

"What the hell is going on with them?" She whispered, moving Carrick's hands away and fastening the tie herself.

He glanced over, shrugging his shoulders.

"Lover's quarrel," he said dismissively, "one of them probably cheated on the other."

She slapped his chest. "That's not funny," she scolded. "I'm serious."

"So am I-that's too tight-" he said in regards to his tie, "It's obvious they expect each other to have no type of social life outside of their own."

Grace frowned. "Do you really think that?" She said, loosening his tie. "That's not normal."

"What's also not normal is your complete inability to whisper," Christian quipped, placing his bowl in the sink and exiting out of the kitchen door.

Grace blushed, looking down. Carrick chuckled softly, kissing her head.

"I've told you for years you needed to work on that."

* * *

3:30 P.M.

"Are you alright, Ana?"

Ana blinked, snapping out of her daydream. As she looked up, she realized the classroom was empty. Did the bell ring already?

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm sorry," she mumbled, furiously trying to close her books and make her way out of the room.

"Are you sure?" Jack asked, looking concerned.

Ana blushed underneath his gaze. Jack was her student-teacher, and quite literally, the only male in that school who _didn't _act like a degenerate. He also happened to be _very _attractive, which was a plus.

"Yeah, just... Having a rough day."

"Would you like to talk about it? I have time, unless you need to catch the bus.."

She looked into his eyes-blue, likes her-but they were.. Different. Almost white. As he looked at her with concern, she had a feeling there was something else hidden in his gaze.

But what did she know? The person she'd been closest to for her whole life had managed to hide a secret from her for God knows how long.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," she muttered, bending over to place her books inside of her messenger bag.

Jack looked down, eyeing her chest-but of course Ana didn't catch that.

When she looked back up, his eyes were on her face, still holding that concerned gaze.

"Are you in some sort of physical danger?"

She laughed. "No, I think _I'm _a physical danger to him."

"Oh," he announced, as if he knew what her problem was, "A boy. I'm guessing your love interest..?"

She blushed. "My brother, actually.." She said awkwardly.

"For some people, that is a love interest," he laughed.

Ana stared back blankly.

Jack cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, brothers are stupid. Trust me, I know."

"You have a sibling?" She asked, interested now.

"Yeah, unfortunately." Ana smiled at his words, understand _exactly _what he was talking about. "But you have to realize that no matter how much they fuck up, you just have to deal with it. They're your family and that means giving them unconditional love."

Ana was taken aback - slightly by his vulgar language - but also from his advice. He seemed like a gruff guy, not the kind who would give such sympathetic advice. But for some reason, she couldn't agree with him. She was sick of chasing Christian with so little in return. It was getting tiring.

"Everything runs out eventually," she argued.

* * *

3:45 P.M.

Christian was sitting outside of St. Agnes-once again-waiting for his little sister. If Grace was going to keep asking him to do this, she might as well pay him for being Ana's personal driver. Idly, he thought about where Henry could be.

His heart felt... Weird. He was getting quite annoyed by the feelings he had been having. He wasn't used to feeling anything at all actually. He was accustomed to the dull, empty void that accustomed no emotion. To him, that was comforting.

Now, he was questioning everything he knew. His lifestyle-sexual lifestyle, that is-his relationship with his family, how he treated people around him... Christian Grey was actually considering being nicer to people around him.

Hell must have froze over.

These new thoughts and feelings.. Scared him. What's worse, he didn't know where they were coming from. One minute, he was the usual bastard he always is, then suddenly he's turning.. Soft.

As he was disgusting himself with thoughts of showing actual human emotion, he saw the glint of mahogony hair in the sun.

_About damn time._

He turned the car back on, anticipating her entrance into the car. As he looked closer, he noticed she was with someone.

The same. Fucking. Bastard she's always with.

He gritted his teeth. He looked anxiously, hoping the man-child would disappear any moment now, but he realized that they were _both _walking towards him. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Gosh, what are you, my personal driver now?" Ana griped as she threw her bag in the back seat.

"Is this him?" The man-child asked.

Christian raised an eyebrow.

Ana sighed. "Yeah, unfortunately." They both laughed, making Christian's blood boil.

_Does nobody know how to fucking whisper anymore?_

"Hey, prick," Christian grumbled, "I can clearly hear you, so if there's a problem-"

Ana gasped. "Jesus, lower your testosterone. There's no problem," she snapped. She turned back towards Jack. "Sorry my brother is such a neanderthal."

Jack shrugged, smirking slightly.

He reached his hand through the window, offering a handshake. "Hello, I'm Jack," he said in a politely manner.

Christian stared at Jack's hand, making no move whatsoever to acknowledge his presence.

Jack retracted his arm awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pocket.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked, directing it towards Ana.

"Yeah, bye," Ana said, smiling up at him in that way that made Christian's stomach roil.

Jack touched her hand as he walked away.

"Bye, baby bird," said Jack, causing Ana to giggle.

Christian's head snapped towards Jack, his heart racing. Goosebumps rose on his skin, his body turning cold as if ice-water had been injected into his veins. For some reason, raw, unadulterated fear creeped into Christian's body. As he looked at Jack, he was reminded of those cruel memories from his childhood.

Ana climbed into the car, fastening her seat belt. Christian stared at Jack, his body shaking. The man-child flashed a knowing smile, slowing winking before turning away.

* * *

4:00 P.M.

"You're not talking to him again - ever," said Christian through gritted teeth, his heart still racing.

Ana scoffed. "As much as you may think so, you're _not _my father and I don't have to listen to you," she grumbled.

"Yeah, I'm not your father, but you still have to listen to me," he argued, "that guy is a creep."

"Ha!" She laughed cynically, "He's a creep? What about that she-devil you hang out with all the time?"

"What?" Christian asked, confused.

"Oh, shut up. You know who I'm talking about."

Fear creeped into Christian's body again, but not from his encounter with Jack. Could Ana really know about Elena?

"She's a hag and constantly hits on you... And what's worse, you _like _it," she spat out, disgusted.

Christian glanced towards Ana, biting his lip. He didn't know what to say.

"God, how can you come home and look at mom in her eyes after what you do?"

He swallowed. "And what exactly do I do?" He asked, deciding to play dumb.

"You know, Christian!" She screeched, her voice piercing his ears. "I saw how you guys acted around each other when I visited you at WSU yesterday. She's your professor for God's sake.. And she looks like she's fifty five."

Christian furrowed his brow, then laughed. A big, hearty laugh. The kind of celebratory laugh that only happens when someone gets themselves out of deep shit.

"Ross?" He laughed, with actual mirth. His usual laughs were almost always filled with bitter hostility.

"You find this funny?!" She yelled. "I've always wanted to go to WSU and now you've soiled my dream school!"

"Ana, Ross is gay.. And she's not my teacher, she's a student just like me. She made some mistakes and now she's trying to get her life together."

"Oh," she whispered, her cheeks reddening.

"That's why you were giving me death glares at breakfast?" He asked, amused.

"Yeah.."

"Well if that's how you would feel about me being involved with my teacher, you should know how I feel about that prick, bastard, creepy, jackass you hang around," he said.

"Jack isn't a creep - and he's technically not even my teacher. He's not certified yet. Plus, he's not thousands of years older than me."

"It doesn't matter, Ana. He gives me bad vibes.."

"That's because you're a selfish asshole!" She exploded. "It's fine for you to do whatever the hell you want to do, but God forbid I even go outside with my hair wet, the world will end!"

He frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're more overprotective than my own parents," she responded, rolling her eyes. "And why? It's not like you even care.."

"What do you mean I don't care? Of course I do-"

"Whatever, Christian. It's so obvious you care about no one but yourself. You shut us all out when all we want to do is be there for you," she whispered, hurt. "I can't keep worrying about you. I have a life too."

He looked at her, the light from her eyes fading. He ran a hand through his hair, trying desperately to interpret her words in other way than what they were _actually _saying. For the third time today, he panicked.

She was giving up on him.

And it was his fault.

* * *

_**Honestly, this chapter is such shit to me; but I have already kept you guys waiting for so long, so I decided to put it up anyway. I'm not in the right state of mind to be writing - as you can see by how horrible this chapter is - but there will be more to come. This is setting up future chapters for Ana to make some discoveries about herself and establish a life away from him. And Jack is going to be as evil as he was in the original books, except I can assure you that the drama will be more intense than in FSOG. **_

_**-XoXo**_


	7. Sixteen III

**_This chapter is very, very different from anything I've ever written. Some may like it and some may be creeped out haha. Also, I don't proofread.. Ever, so please forgive me for any mistakes. _**

* * *

_January 23, 2006_

_9:35 A.M._

_No one ever accused me of being able to handle my liquor._

* * *

October 31, 1997

1:15 A.M.

Hard liquor. Soft liquor. Cheap liquor. Expensive liquor. Stolen liquor.

So many to choose from, yet frighteningly all were present in Ana's body. Her head hung low, heavy and clouded. Her eyes were barely open - even if they were, it's not like she could possibly make sense of anything surrounding her. She knew there was noise - lots of it - in the background, but her head was too fuzzy to make anything out. She had the urge to laugh; who knew that an innocent girl, regarded as the "golden child", could reach such pathetic depths?

She felt something wet on her exposed thigh. Barely able to move her head, she looked down at her pale skin, just visible underneath the hem of her skirt.

It was drool.

She tried to close her mouth and actually _thought _she had succeeded, but after her thigh kept collecting puddles of spittle, she realized her efforts were futile. She reached up, trying to grab onto something - someone, at least - to help her up, but her weak arm fell back down to her sides.

_Help me, _she screamed in her head. She wasn't sure her body was capable of making any sounds, or even if her brain was able to articulate any words. She looked around: there were people laughing, bodies mashed up together - moving against each other in synch to the beat of _whatever_ horrible song was playing - there were people kissing, others sitting on the ground, their heads between their knees.

Everyone had something to do, something to think about, something to _focus _on, except Ana. She was in a room full of people, but yet no one saw her.

_Look at me_, she called. _Look at me._

She wanted to yell, to scream, to do _anything, _but yet she couldn't move. She felt invisible, like she didn't exist. Why was no one seeing her... Paying attention?

_Can't they see me?_

She moved her body off of the chair, trying to stand up. She felt sick, and not just sick because of all the alcohol she consumed, but she felt a deep despair. Anguish. Dread. She could feel her chest tightening, her stomach dropping. She grabbed onto the wall as she stood, trying desperately to hold her own weight. As she stood, the room around her spun, the neon green lights giving her a headache. She looked at the moving bodies, but they were no longer in-sync. They were slow, distorted.. Unnatural. Their arms and limbs looked like they were darting sporadically, almost as if towards Ana. Reaching out for her.

She turned away, her heart starting to race. She focused on the wall, tracing her hand alongside the plaster. Her vision and coordination were completely off, making the simple act of walking almost impossible. She felt her body slipping, her head spinning to the point where she was almost nauseous.

_Please don't fall, _she pleaded with herself.

Ana held onto the wall tighter, her nails digging into the paint and causing it to chip. Her head started to pound, the edges of her vision turning black. She didn't think she could hold on any longer. She turned her head once again to the crowd, the flashing lights in the room causing her head to pound even harder and her stomach to roil.

"Help," she called out, but no one stopped. Their bodies continued to move, their limbs darting outwards.

"Help!" she screamed, her eyes snapping shut from the exhaustion and pain of yelling.

She opened her eyes once again - slowly - and the room was different. The lights were no longer a neon green, but instead a bright white. They flickered on and off - like strobe lights - and the kids were no longer moving. They turned and stared at her, their eyes menacing and unblinking. The music stopped and it was completely silent - so silent that Ana could hear her own harsh breathing.

She froze, fear creeping into her body like a snake slithering over the grass. Goosebumps rose on her skin, the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

"Can you help me?" She whispered, her voice riddled with anxiety and confusion.

The teenagers continued to stare, their eyes unmoving; however, their orbs darkened almost to the point of complete absence of the pupils. A slow smile moved across their lips, the smile so wide it almost reached across their whole face.

Ana backed away, her heart pounding against her chest.

"Stop staring at me," she whispered to the crowd of teens.

They stood still, their smile never ceasing.

"Stop staring at me!" She yelled, her voice ragged and terrified. She continued to back away, her legs moving as quickly as they possible could.

"Why, Ana?" The crowd asked, their voices ringing out as one.

Ana yelled, fear paralyzing her whole body. Tears started to stream down her face, her chest almost ready to explode from the forceful pumping of her heart. Ana turned around to run, no longer able to face the monstrous and terrifying smiles of the strangers.

"Don't you want me?"

As Ana turned, she was met with the crowds of teens, their smiles still in place and their eyes still black; however, this time they all had the face of Christian.

She gasped, dread streaming throughout her veins. Their smiles widened, so wide that skin fell off their faces, blood dripping from their lips. Ana screamed a blood-curdling scream, unadulterated terror laced with every note. She turned away once again, running away from the grotesque and distorted faces of the crowd.

Ana ran away as quickly as possible, her coordination and vision clearing up under pressure. Her heart was racing and her breathes were ragged and rushed. She heard the crowd following her, their laughs and jeers following her every move.

_"__Don't run, Ana... Come back and play."_

She turned the corner, only a few strides away from the front door. As she ran towards the exit, a Christian-look-alike ran in front of her. Ana screamed, cowering away from the imposter.

"Leave me alone!"

"Look at what you're doing to me, Ana," the clone demanded, it's eyes turning malicious. The joyful and mocking smile was long gone, covered by a belligerent sneer.

The Christian clone clawed at it's face, the skin peeling off in large chunks. "Is this what you want?"

Ana pushed passed him, opening the door. She ran through, racing passed the long line of cars and bright lights adorned along the driveway. She sprinted, not looking back or even caring what direction she was headed in. The only thing Ana focused on was getting around from the monstrous crowd. She kept pushing, her legs burning and lungs screaming for air.

The last thing Ana remembered was falling, her head hitting the concrete. She felt a gush of liquid run down her forehead and then everything went black.

* * *

October 31, 1997

8:30 A.M.

She opened her eyes. To her relief, she was not met with the dark, menacing eyes of the Christian impersonators. As Ana looked around, she realized her vision was much clearer and her head was not as cloudy; but to her chagrin, she realized that her head was throbbing even worse than when she passed out. She raised her hand to her temple and noticed a long, jagged gash on the side of her forehead. She winced at the tenderness.

"Don't touch it, baby," her mom chided softly.

Ana looked to her left and realized her whole family was in the room. She frowned - why was she just now noticing? Her father, mother, and oldest brother looked concerned, but mostly relieved that she was up. On the other hand, there was Christian... and he looked much like the monsters she had seen the night before. She groaned and turned away.

"What happened?" She asked, her voice raspy.

"You fell," her father answered, "off a two-story balcony." He winced as he said the words, but there was an undertone of anger in his voice.

Ana gasped. A balcony?

"What are you talking about? I wasn't even near a balcony..."

"According to you, you were also 'skating' last night, so we can't really take your word for anything, now can we?" Christian snapped.

"Christian," Grace warned, frowning in his direction.

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and looking down at the white and black tile of the hospital floor. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips pursed into a hard line. He was seriously upset, but Ana couldn't understand why.

"I.. I.." Ana started, wanting to explain herself; but, she realized there wasn't a good explanation for her actions. She deliberately lied to her parents and got wasted at a party - she wasn't looking like the 'golden child' now. "I'm sorry.." She whispered, not having anything else to say.

Her family looked down, not accepting nor rejecting her apology. None of them were sure what to say or how to feel. Did they scold her? Feel sorry for her? Be happy that she isn't dead? In all honesty, they probably felt a mixture of all of those emotions.

"Lie back down, I'll go get you some more medicine for your head," Grace soothed, her gentle manner not even allowing her to be as upset as she should be.

"Ana, we have to ask you.." Her father started, looking fairly awkward, "did you take any recreational drugs last night? There were high amounts of LSD in your system.."

Ana gasped, her eyes widening. She might drink from time to time, but she was completely against drugs of all kind.

"No, I swear," she denied. As she thought about it, she felt sick to her stomach. Her head spun and her stomach roiled.

"Are you sure? It's okay to tell us," he coaxed.

"I'm not lying," she insisted.

Christian scoffed. "Then how'd it get there?" He said, his voice laced with disbelief and anger.

"I don't know," Ana groaned.

Actually, there was not much she remembered at all from last night. She doesn't remember how she got there, where the party was at, or what happened during the party. There was only one thing she remembered and that was the horrifying faces of the crowd. She shuddered as she remembered the vivid hallucination.

"Yeah, well we don't know either," Christian snapped, his eyes glowing with frustration.

"Oh, please don't pretend to be the patron saint!" Ana snapped back, "we all know what _you _do in your free time," she growled.

"Okay, that's enough," Carrick stated, "everybody outside." He pointed to Christian and Elliot.

"Ugh, everybody please stop yelling," Elliot whispered, clutching his head. His eyes were adorned with thick, black shades.

Seems like Ana wasn't the only one who had a fun time last night.

Elliot and Christian exited the room, softly shutting the door behind them. Carrick looked at Ana, his face clouded with a multitude of emotions. He frowned, unsure of how things had gotten here. Ana was the last person he had expected to pull a stunt like this.

"Are you okay?" He asked gently, but he wasn't sure what he was actually asking about. Was she okay physically? Mentally? _Emotionally? _Something had to be wrong for his baby girl to act like this.

"I'm fine," Ana said, her voice cracking. If she were being honest, she didn't actually know is she _was _fine.

Her eyes watered and tears threatened to spill over her cheeks. She felt ashamed. After everything, she didn't deserve to cry... To feel sorry for herself. It was her fault, wasn't it?

"I just want to be alone... I'm sleepy," she lied.

Carrick nodded his head, frowning. Was she safe to leave alone? He knew her mother would be back soon, so he decided to give her some space. Of course he would be standing right outside the door, however.

He gently kissed her forehead, silently telling her everything would be okay. Ana's tears finally spilled over, her heart heavy with confusion and guilt. What was going on in the world?

* * *

_Three days earlier..._

"Okay, that's actually horrible," Ana giggled, looking at Jack's haphazard portrait of herself.

"I tried my best," he argued, frowning.

She shook her head. "Yeah, maybe if you were five," she teased, hopping off the desk. She looked at the clock - it was definitely passed school hours, but apparently Jack and Ana were 'studying'. And by studying, they meant making silly drawings and gossiping about the students and staff.

"Well, not everyone can be as gifted as you," Jack said earnestly.

Ana blushed, one because of how sincere his comment was, two because of how his eyes lit up when he looked at her. Despite all of the pep talks she tried to give herself about not crushing on her student teacher, she couldn't help but notice how good looking he actually was.

"Barely," she argued, "You've only seen one drawing of mine and I worked on it for weeks. Try seeing what my doodles look like."

"Nope," he said, shaking his head, "I refuse to let you downplay your talent."

Ana rolled her eyes, but inwardly she felt pleased from his approval. She wasn't sure why, but she found herself wanting to impress him every chance she got. She walked over to his desk, looking at the stacks of papers riddled all over the surface. She turned towards him.

"Really? It's been a week and you still haven't graded our papers?" She mock-complained.

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Now how could I do that when I'm always preoccupied after school?"

"There's weekends," she argued.

"My weekends are spent planning how I can ruin the life of one of my life-long enemies," Jack deadpanned, his eyes looking shockingly cold and dead.

Ana laughed, a hint of confusion and fear laced in her voice. She wasn't actually sure if he was being serious. He smiled a crooked smile, which somewhat relaxed Ana, but she still felt a sick feeling in her stomach. She quickly turned away, not able to look at him when he smiled. Yeah, he was cute, but every time he smiled that way she was reminded of someone she recently started to hate thinking about.

_Christian.._

She didn't like thinking about him, not because of the fact that she didn't like him, but because of the fact that it was harder and harder to understand how she felt about him. Everything had been so simple when she was younger. He was her big brother and she was his little sister. They did everything together and loved each other with unconditional love only kids could give... But now, she wasn't sure what she wanted from him. And the thoughts she had about him weren't ones you would think about your older brother.

"I should go," Ana decided, once again looking at the clock. It was almost five and she no longer felt in the mood for silly drawings. She groaned, even when Christian isn't there, he's still affecting her.

"Aw, c'mon, don't be mad at me for not grading the papers."

Ana smiled, "I'm not mad. It's just pretty late and my parents will probably be wondering where I am," she explained as she gathered her belongings into her tote bag.

"Fair enough, I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded her assent and was making her way towards the door when Jack suddenly grabbed her wrist. Ana spun around, a questioning look on her face.

"You're a really good kid, you know that?" Jack muttered, his eyes warm and glowing.

Ana blushed, her heart fluttering. She bit her lip and looked down.

"Thanks, you're a good teacher," she mumbled before rushing out of the room as fast as she could. As she made her way to her parents' car, she couldn't wipe the smile off of her face.

"Such a pretty girl," Jack mumbled to himself, the rays of the setting sun casting an eery glow onto his skin, "too bad I'm going to have to kill her."

* * *

October 31, 1997

9:15 A.M.

"You're so stupid," he cursed, his voice hushed. He wasn't actually saying the words to anyone, more so to himself.

Ana's eyes fluttered open. To her disappointment, she was still in the hospital. For a faint second, she hoped that this whole ordeal had been a bad dream and soon she would be waking up nestled into the fluffy pillows adorned around her bed.

"I know you are, but what am I?" She croaked out, her voice dry and harsh.

He sucked his teeth. "What, are we five again?" He mumbled.

"I wish," she admitted, "it was a lot easier back then."

Ana played with the hospital band around her wrist, sighing at the situation she was in. It was like some after school special - _Hey kids, don't go to parties. If you do, you might fall off a two-story balcony and get drugged!_

"Yeah... It actually kind of was."

She looked at Christian, an eyebrow raised. He was agreeing with her for once?

"You agree with me? Hell must have froze over."

He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes casted downwards. The angry and hateful expression from earlier completely gone from his face. Now, he just looked empty.

"I haven't been the best brother lately... And I'm sorry," he said, looking into her eyes. His grey orbs were dark and lifeless. Seeing the hurt expression on his face made Ana feel nauseous.

"You don't have to apologize," she assured, "I get it. You just have a lot on your plate."

"Don't make excuses for me!" He snapped, "I am a horrible person and everyone around me just ends up.. Broken. It's like I'm some disease that sucks the life out of everyone around me."

Ana sat up, her heart breaking with each word he spoke. What happened last night was not his fault and she hated to see him blame himself. She was the one who was irresponsible, not him.

"Christian, stop," she demanded, "I did this to myself. I shouldn't have lied to mom and dad."

"It's not just that... It's everything. You were always happy and carefree... Now you're like me. I hate to see you so alone and sad. And I know that it's my fault," he whispered, his voice raspy.

"I'm not sad! I'm happy all the time."

She smiled, trying to get him to see that there was nothing wrong with her; but in the back of her mind she knew that there was something wrong. It wasn't Christian entirely, it was something so much deeper and she didn't even know what she was feeling.

"But I abandoned you.. Everyone! Don't you see? You even said it to me yourself. I hurt people and then have the audacity to be upset when bad things happen to them."

"We all have our own problems, you can't blame yourself."

"Neither can you. You have to admit at least that I have been hurting you."

"Yes, but that's not-"

"See?" He demanded, "I've been bringing bad luck to people since I've been born."

"No! You can't possibly think that, Christian. You make a lot of people happy-"

He laughed harshly, his eyes turning dark. "Happy? I make people _happy?"_

_"_You make me happy."

"Not lately."

Ana looked down, not able to argue that point with him. Lately, all he had been doing is hurting her.. But that doesn't mean he's bad luck; and it doesn't mean that he's a horrible person. If he were horrible, she wouldn't be able to love him. She loved him, plain and simple. So much that she couldn't stop thinking about him, or wanting to be around him, or hoping that he would notice when she did something good. She wanted him to be proud of her, to think that she was pretty.. To love her.

"Yeah, not lately... But it doesn't matter." She grabbed his hand and placed it in between hers, "you're my brother and I love you unconditionally. No matter what, I could never hate you or think you're a horrible person. I hate for you to think that about yourself," she insisted.

"Why? What's so good about me? I'm not like you, I'm not nice, or selfless, or charming.. I'm just an asshole," he argued, his voice defiant and harsh.

"I just do... And love doesn't need an explanation," she shrugged, not able to explain why she felt the way she did. Did she even need to? The heart feels what it feels and it wants what it wants.. Why make things complicated by trying to explain it?

Christian looked at her, long and hard. His eyes softened, turning so clear they looked almost limpid. He pulled her against him, burying her into his chest. She wrapped her arms around him, breathing a sigh of comfort and ease. Her body had felt so tense and empty, but now she felt complete. She closed her eyes, revealing in Christian's warmth and smell. After a few moments, she felt warm drops on the nape of her neck. They slowly trickled down to the small of her back, where they were absorbed by the hospital blanket. She hugged him tighter.

It was the first time she had seen Christian cry.

* * *

_**First, I want to say Ana would never take drugs on her own.. So someone definitely had something to do with it. Jack will become very dangerous in the future chapters and look forward to more peaceful and affectionate interactions between Christian and Ana.**_

_**Thank you guys so much for reading and following, I appreciate it a lot! Life has been hectic lately, so please bear with me. Update days will be sporadic, but I hope I will have more time to write. **_

_**Don't forget to review Xx**_


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